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WRAT siren-joys from thy high trust hath won thee, Young loves their flight through airs ambrosial winging,
Oh Poet of today?-thou still unheard,

And dark-browed heroes arming for the fight-
Though struggling nations cast their eyes upon thee
And the roused world is waiting for thy word!

The trumpet's “golden cry,”—the shield's quick flashing

The dance of banners and the rush of war Why lingerest thou amid the summer places,

Death-showers of arrows and the spear's sharp clashingThe gardens of romance, the haunt of dreams,

The homeward rolling of the victor's car! 'Mid verdurous shadows, lit by fairy faces, And fitful playing of soft, golden gleams ?

But ahl in all that song's heroic story

Had sad Humanity one briefest part? There have thy fiery thoughts and hopes betaken Sounds through the clang of words, the storm, the glory, To still delights, and loneliness, and rest,

One sharp, strong cry from out her bleeding heart? Thy life to quiet gliding, lest it waken The languid lilies sleeping on its breast.

But unto thee the soul of song is given

Oh Poet of today! a grander dower
The rudest wind which comes where thou art lying, Comes from a higher than the Olympian heaven,
Listening the chiming waters as they flow,

In holier beauty and in larger power.
May scarcely set the mournful pines a-sighing,
Or shake down rose-leaves on thy dreaming brow. To thee Humanity her woes revealing,

Would all her griefs and ancient wrongs rehearse; Arousel look up, to where above thee tower

Would make thy song the voice of her appealing,
Regions of being grander, freer, higher,

And sob her mighty sorrows through thy verse.
Where God reveals His presence and His power
E'en as of old, in thunders and in fire.

While in her season of great darkness sharing,

Hail thou the coming of each promise-star Then stray no longer in the valleys vernal

Which climbs the midnight of her long despairing,
Ascend where darkness and great lights belong,

And watch for morning o'er the hills afar.
Sunshine and tempest-scale the heights eternal,
Go forth and tread the mountain-paths of song!

Wherever Truth her holy warfare wages,

Or Freedom pines, there let thy voice be heard;
From those far summits shall thy thought's clear voicing sound like a prophet-warning down the ages,
Fall like the sweep of torrents on the world;

The human utterance of God's living word.'
Thy lays speed forth, exultant and rejoicing,
Their eagle pinions on the winds unfurled.

But bring not thou the battle's stormy chorus,

The tramp of armies, and the roar of fight, Ah, when the soul of ancient song was blending

Not war's hot smoke to taint the sweet morn o'er us, With the rapt bard's in his immortal strains,

Nor blaze of pillage, reddening up the night.
Twas like the wine drank on Olympus, sending
Divine intoxication through the veins.

Oh! let thy lays prolong that angel-singing,

Girdling with music the Redeemer's star, It brought strange, charmed words and magic singing, And breathe God's peace, to earth “glad tidings" bringing And forms of beauty burning on the sight

From the near heavens, of old so dim and far.

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“Le poète est homme par les sons,
Homme par la douleur!
L'argile perissable où tant d'âme palpite,
Se façonne plus belle, et se brise plus vite;
Le nectar est divin, mais le vase est mortel;
C'est un Dieu dont le poids doit écraser l'autel;
C'est un souffle trop plein du soir ou de l'aurore,
Qui fait chanter le vent dans un roseau sonore,
Mais, qui brisé de son, le jette au bord de l'eau,
Comme un chaume sèche battu sous le fléau !""


Thou dark-eyed, pensive, passionate Child of Song!

Enthusiast1 Dreamer! Worshipper of things
By the world's crowd unnoticed, ʼmid the throng
Of beautiful creations Nature flings
The sunlight of existence on!

-The wings
Of the rude tempest are not half so strong

As thy proud hopes and wild imaginings:
Stop! ere their bold and sacrilegious flight

Reach a too-dazzling height:
So venturing sunward, that the flashing eye

Of Reason, grown deliriously bright,
Kindle to Madness and to Idiocy!

And from excessive light,
To hideous blindness fall, and tenfold night!

Some unfamiliar object to discern;

And so, Her loveliest features unregarded go! Away, proud thought! such boastings ne'er were thing Since in the meanest, humblest fower that grows, E'en in thy life-breath, as it comes and goes,

There are a thousand things whose origin,

Whose secret springs, whose impulses divine, No human art nor wisdom can disclose!

Stop! whilst the ruby fount of Life Goes bubbling onward, hurtless, through thy veins ;

While yet the glorious, but capricious strife
Of Being is uncertain: while the stains

That Sin and Sorrow rust into the soul
Touch but the surface only, not the whole.
Stop! whilst to Memory earth is still so dear-

And hath a thousand ties—and is not all
One sad, unvarying, spirit-wounding sphere-
Whilst Hope still smiles at thy so-frequent call,

And the dim Future comes Peopled with tiny faces, and the forms Of angel loved ones, that, with outstretched arms,

Beckon thy spirit to their sunny homes!

Stop!- I conjure thee

-Bid the Muse away! Her fatal gift cast from thee or resign,

And her proud mandate heed not nor obey! E'en now thy brow hath Sorrow's pallid sign

Thine eye, though bright, is like the flickering ray Of “a stray sunbeam o'er some ruined shrine"Lighting up vestiges, almost divine,

In sad, yet dimly-beautiful decay.

Thy cheek is sunken, and the fickle play Of the faint smile that curls thy parted lip,

Hath something fearful in it, though so gayA something treacherously calm and deepSuch as on sunny waters seems to sleep

When, hid beneath some passing shadow's gray, The subtle Storm-Fiend watches for his prey!

Stop! if thou'dst live.

-Or, bath Life left for theo No charms, that thou its last, terrific scene Shouldst with such passion worship?

Can it be
That the world nothing hath thou'dst care to win?
No gem? no flower? no loveliness unseen?

No wonder unexplored ? no mystery
Still undeveloped to the eagle eye

Of Genius or of Poesy?
Where are the depths of the dark, billowy sea?

Its peopling millions ? its gigantic chain
Of gorgeous, glittering waters, wild as free?

Where the big-orbed Sun? the blue-veiled sky, With its magnificent, diamond-glistening train Of ever-burning stars?

-It may not be, (Thou fond idolater at every fane

Where beauty lingers), may not be that thou Hast treasured up Earth's precious things, till now

Thou deem'st it vain to turn,

Stop! melancholy youth:
Though bright and sparkling be the tide of song,
And many a sunbeam o'er its waters dance

Meanderingly along:
Though it be Heaven to quaff of; yet, in truth,
A deadlier venom taints its gay expanse,

More deep, more strong,
Than to the subtlest poison doth belong!
A very demon haunts its golden air!
Infatuating with his serpent glance

The wanderer there;
And, with a sad but most bewitching smile,

Wooing the while
The fond and credulous one to his desire,

With burning thoughts, whose mad, unholy fire,
With its own strength enkindles its own funeral pyre!

Stop! if thou'dst live then

Stop! or e'er thy flight
Reach a toodazzling height:
Venturing sunward, till the flashing eye

Of Reason, grown deliriously bright,
Kindle to Madness and to Idiocy-
And, from excessive light

To hideous blindness fall, and tenfold night!


THERE is so little that is decidedly new in the European world of fashion, that even the 'Moniteur de la Mode' finds opportunity to amuse its readers with delineations of extravagances for the Carnival, holiday costumes of the peasant girls of Ischia, and the little maidens of Caux. In consequence of this dearth of novelty, we are unable to give this month our usual number of figures of costumes. There are, however, indications of much activity and great changes for the future. It is said, for instance, that waists are to be made quite short, and that skirts are to fit tight upon the hips. The Moniteur, in mentioning this change as one of the on dits of fashionable society, alludes to the hardihood and boldness of the innovation, and says, that it will not yet say that it is fully determined upon. Meanwhile the high, close corsages continue in vogue. Robes of rich heavy material, such as brocade, damask satin and velvet, are almost universally made with the corsage open in front en coeur, and high behind; the opening being filled with a rich chemisette of lace.

Dress robes are generally much ornamented with trim. ming, for which purpose much use is made of application of velvet and chenille. Sleeves, which are made easy at the top, should be open and very large below, with flots of lace and other trimmings, widening as they fall upon the hand. This aristocratic fulness is much in favour, being rightly considered to give the hand a genteel and neat appearance.

Beaver bonnets for morning wear are fashionable at present, of the colour called Carmelite, trimmed with a pretty Doeud above of the same colour. The inside is lined with phite and trimmed with noeuds of white, mixed with velvet épingle of the same colour as the bonnet.

Bonnets of demi-toilettes are all made of either satin or velvet épinglé, with bands of satin fixed upon the crown and cape. The under-trimming is a mixture of velvet and ribands.

For the afternoon, rich bonnets of velvet, black, dark blue, deep garnet, &c., are fashionable, ornamented with a very small bird on each side, without other trimming. Blond and ribands intermingled form the under-trimming.

Visiting bonnets are of velvet épinglé of light colours, such as

FIG. 1. FIGURE 1. Half Dress Home Toilette.Cap of white tulle, forming somewhat of the Mary Stuart point upon the forehead, and bordered all round with ruches of tulle, four rows in front but only two on the back part. On each side are noeuds, two orange and two violet, which extend square above the hips. Sleeves large at the bottom and to the temples and cover the ears. These næuds are very gathered into two puffings by three bands. The revers on swelling, and made of two puffs of orange above, and two the front of the corsage and of the jupe, and also the bands of violet below, before and behind a contracted middle; on the sleeves, are trimmed with a galon of violet velvet they are arranged in such a manner as gracefully to en- stamped with dark designs. At the middle of the corsage, close the face. Two wide brides, one orange and the other and of the jupe, are seven stages or degrees of nauds violet, are crossed upon the crown, and two long ends fall Louis XIII. composed of this galon, wound upon itself and behind.

fixed by buttons of oxydated silver, and sleevelettes of lace Redingote of dark Scotch velvet. Corsage high behind, and collared chemisette of the same. open in front with revers, and with short skirts extending FIGURE 2. Young Lady's Full Dress.—Coiffure in short but little below the waist. These skirts, which are merely bandeaux; on one side a bunch of Rose Acacia falls over prolongations of the front of the corsage, are finished the hair and a little upon the cheek; on the other is a



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noeud & coques, or eggshell noud, and two long ends of with a large bunch of roses, and broidered all round with delicate green taffetas riband.

a pufing, with swellings upright rather than horizontal. Robe of white taffetas, spotted with little bunches of the uppermost skirt is bordered with a similar puffing, flowers. Corsage rounded and full, like that of a little girl, but twice as wide. On the left side the skirt is slit to falling away a little, plain in front, but gathered near the nearly half its height, the gap being bordered with trashoulders, the gathers extending to the front of the waist. verse puffings decreasing from bottom to top; at the top Sleeves short, rather wide and gathered up at the sides by of the opening is a row of rosebuds, passing thence to the noud of

green riband. Smooth embroidered ch emisette hips and gradually diminishing in size as they ascend. On appearing above the corsage.

the right the skirt is not opened, but festooned by a bunch FIGURE 3. Ball Costume.-Coiffure composed of roses and of roses, which curb its fulness. The under skirt is long rosebuds, forming a diadem around the front part of the and bordered by a puffing twice as wide as that on the head, with mixed tufts of foliage and buds falling over the upper one, and passing all round. The arrangement of cheeks, and reaching almost to the shoulders.

this trimming is very prettily graduated. That on the Robe of rose-coloured crêpe lisse, trimmed with puffings short sleeve being narrow, that on the corsage twice as of crêpe lisse and flowers. Corsage falling away a little wide, and so doubling until that on the lower skirt is eight in the middle, of three pieces; waist long. Berthe closed times as wide as that on the sleeves.

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See Scott's Introduction to the Bride of Lammermoor.

The engraving in this number, of the Alehouse Politi- more by the time he left school at the age of fourteen, to cians, or rather the “ Village Politicians," as it is usually proceed to the study of drawing and painting at Edincalled, is after one of the two pictures which established | burgh. He had always shown a strong inclination for the reputation of Wilkie in London immediately on their drawing, even from earliest childhood, and many humorbeing seen. The other is of “Pitlessie Fair.” Both were ous anecdotes are recorded of his feats in that way, some produced before he was twenty-one; and it is really won- of which did not fail to bring him into trouble at the derful that such a mere youth should have been able to Manse. Accordingly with his small portfolio of drawproduce works so perfect and complete in all the requi- ings, and accompanied by his father, he trudged over to sites of the class of pictures to which they belong. Edinburgh, to endeavour to obtain admission as a student

Wilkie was a native of Scotland, and the third son of a in the academy established there for the gratuitous inclergyman in the neighbourhood of Edinburgh, whose struction of youths, who might afterwards be engaged in very limited means rendered it a matter of some anxiety Art-Manufactures, thus improving the taste of form and as to how the necessary education and outfit could be patterns. The Secretary of the Trustees' School was provided. Of the latter, the industry and perseverance George Thomson, well known through his connexion with added to the genius of the boy created sufficient, and of the poet Burns, and, although not an artist, was the perthe former he never had much, and it would seem that sonage empowered to judge of and decide on the merit of he must have been but a dull scholar, to have acquired no the candidates. This ordeal Wilkie could not pass, and

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